


Sunset

by orphan_account



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-27
Updated: 2012-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>by Virginia Ann Jacshuan</p>
<p>Originally Printed in The Pilot's Prayer 2</p>
    </blockquote>





	Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> by Virginia Ann Jacshuan
> 
> Originally Printed in The Pilot's Prayer 2

SUNSET  
  


by Virginia Ann Jacshuan  
  


Originally Printed in The Pilot's Prayer 2 

It was a typical summer day at the Riptide Detective Agency: they were unemployed. The tourists had come out in force, making the beaches too crowded to be really enjoyable, and the odors wafting toward the dock from the fish market were nearing lethal intensities. Life would have been a lot more pleasant anchored a few miles out from the harbor, doing some fishing and lounging in fresh air. However, on the off chance that a client might wander by, the guys were keeping themselves available. 

That didn't mean they had to be completely miserable. 

"Nick, get me another beer while you're up, will you?" Cody didn't take his eyes off the TV, watching the game intently. 

"Sure," Nick grumbled as he headed for the galley. "I get to go bring the drinks, fetch the chips, and what do I get for all this?" Behind him, Cody suddenly cheered and pounded the bench in an excess of enthusiasm. "I get to miss the game, that's what I get. Hey! What's going on up there?" he called over his shoulder from the opened refrigerator. 

"Hurry up! Man, you gotta see this!" Cody's reply was concise and totally uninformative. 

Nick rummaged almost frantically through the shelves, though he knew that no matter how fast he located the required items and returned with them, he'd get back just in time for the commercial break. "Hey, Cody! Where'd you hide the beer, anyway?" he yelled, not finding anything but the empty cardboard container from the six-pack they'd just finished. 

"What? All right! Go! Come on, Nick, you're missing the game!" 

"I know that! Where'd you put the beer?!?" Giving up on the fridge, he bounded back up the stairs and reached the living room just as the announcer made the segue into the ads. 

"Right in front, of course," Cody said. "Too bad you missed that last play, it was a beaut." 

"Yeah, I had that figured." Nick dropped onto the seat next to him and regarded the TV disconsolately. "Couldn't find it. You sure you put both in?" 

"Both? I thought you got the spare." There was a moment of silence as they regarded each other, then Nick groaned. 

"It was your turn this week, pal. I just missed a reportedly great play because I was searching for something you forgot to get, so it's only fair that you go out and miss the rest of the game and bring back the rest of the beer. And some Cheetos," he added as an afterthought. 

"What, we're out of Cheetos too? What kind of an operation are we running here? As the faithful sidekick, it is your duty to keep the munchie supply well-stocked." 

"Hah! Look, just run up to the fish market and get a couple drafts, you can probably make it back before the end of the game." 

"Are you kidding? You know they only have Coors and Olympia on tap there. Come on, Nick, you've already missed the best part, you might as well miss the rest too. You go out." Cody's persuasive charm was wasted on a completely unresponsive audience. 

"No way." Nick's attention shifted back to the TV as the ads finished and the game recommenced. Each succeeding commercial break was spent in the continuing discussion of whose responsibility the missing refreshments were, with no decisive points scored by either side. If it occurred to either of them to suggest that Murray (who had no vested interest in the game, since he was totally lost in the intricacies of a new piece of software) be sent out, it wasn't mentioned, since convincing the other that he should go had become more important that the actual acquisition of the disputed items. 

Finally the afternoon sports ended and the round of game shows before the news started. "OK," Nick sighed, "now I'll go. A guy could starve to death waiting for some decent service around here." 

"I'll come along. Somebody has to supervise your atrocious taste or we'd end up drinking Lone Star and eating generic cat dinner." 

"Get real," Nick snorted disgustedly. "I always buy Purina, you know that." They dropped by Murray's room to let him know they'd be out for a few minutes. 

"You want anything?" Nick asked. 

Completely absorbed in something hopelessly esoteric, Boz replied, "Yeah, bring me back a box of Screaming Yellow Zonkers and two liters of Coke." 

They took the Vette and headed for the grocery store on the Pacific Coast Highway just down from the pier. The afternoon traffic was heavy, and it looked like a fair number of them had spent the day with a far larger supply of intoxicant than the _Riptide_ had been equipped with. 

Laughing at one of Nick's muttered maledictions on the station wagon full of screaming kids puttering along in front of them, Cody stretched and sighed contentedly, thinking that, on the whole, life was pretty good. The late afternoon sun cast a slightly orange glow over the buildings and the temperature was that mellow California evening warmth that convertibles were made for cruising in. The air held a faint hint of eucalyptus and salt that the exhaust fumes couldn't quite cover. 

As they went through an intersection, Cody glanced around, automatically scanning, and saw a car in the process of running through a red light--straight toward them. His eyes widened in disbelief as he saw it accelerate rather than slow. "Look out!" 

Nick saw the onrushing car just as he heard Cody's warning cry, but he had no time to do anything. Everything seemed to slow down as he heard the screech of locked tires, the sickening crunch of metal, and felt the impact as the Corvette was hurled sideways. 

After what seemed an eternity, both cars came to a stop and Nick released his death grip on the steering wheel. "Damn! Cody, you OK?" He knew the answer as soon as he turned his head to look. 

Cody's head was lying on the dashboard. He wasn't moving, and two thin trickles of blood ran from his nose and mouth. 

"Cody?" Nick asked, touching his shoulder carefully. "Hey, c'mon, buddy..." 

There was no response. Nick felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach as he heard an approaching siren. Incongruously, he thought, _Who says there's never a cop around when you need one?_  
  


Both cars were cleared out of the intersection with practiced speed by the CHP. The one that had hit Nick was an already battered Chevy Impala, driven by a moderately drunk young man who had suffered nothing more than a sprained ankle and mild whiplash. Cody had not been so lucky and was loaded into an ambulance and driven off without having regained consciousness. Nick fretted at having to stay behind to make his statement and see to the removal of the Vette, but there was nothing else he could really do. 

One of the patrolmen dropped him off at the hospital, where he called Murray to let him know what had happened and to come pick him up. He found that Cody had already been taken care of and was listed as stable. After answering an interminable series of questions for the admittance records, Nick was allowed to look in on him. 

Cody appeared to be sleeping peacefully, though Nick winced at seeing the darkening bruise across his forehead. Assured that Cody was in no immediate danger, he allowed Murray to coax him into going back to the _Riptide_ for the night. On the way back, he explained what had happened as well as he could. He did not remember the exact sequence of events so much as a series of vivid still pictures: the car coming straight at him broadside, the silence when they had stopped moving, Cody unmoving next to him, the blood dripping slowly onto the white dashboard. 

Nick slept very poorly that night. The grinding crunch of metal on fiberglass haunted his dreams, the thousand details that would have to be attended to in order to fix his Vette kept running through his mind, and under it all was a continuing worry about Cody.  
  


Nick called the hospital the next morning to check on Cody and was informed that he had awakened and was with the doctor at the moment. Taking that as a positive report, Nick and Murray spent the morning getting several estimates for the body work on the Vette and clearing up some insurance paperwork. Shortly after noon, Murray dropped Nick off at the hospital and went off in search of parts for his own project, promising to come and pick them both up before too long. 

It wasn't that simple. Instead of letting Nick in to see Cody right away, he was asked to wait in the doctor's office, and he could get no further information on Cody's condition from the nurse. Unfortunately for Nick's temper, the wait was a long one, and he had progressed to a slow boil by the time the harried-looking doctor came in and dropped a pile of lab forms on the desk before shaking Nick's hand. "I'm Dr. Baker." 

"What's going on? Cody's OK, isn't he?" 

"Yes, he's in no danger, the injuries were not that bad, some cuts and bruises, possibly a mild concussion, no broken bones, and we initially thought this was a pretty straightforward case. But there have been some...unexpected complications I think you should know about before you see him." 

"C'mon, what sort of 'complications'?" Nick demanded angrily. "Why can't anybody get a straight answer outa you guys?" 

"All right, Mr. Ryder, have it your way. As simply as possible, your friend is blind." The doctor glared back at him, then softened slightly as Nick lost all his belligerence and sat back slowly, the shock making him look bewildered. "We don't know for how long, but the indications are that it could very well be permanent. I don't want to raise any false hopes, and I think he should start adjusting to it now as if it were to last for the rest of his life. He's going to need a lot of support and help through this, and it won't be easy for any of you." 

"Does he know?" Nick's voice had sunk to a whisper. 

"Yes, we tried a few tests with him this morning when he regained consciousness. I told him the same thing I told you, accept it now, because the chance for a cure is too remote to pin any hope on." 

"But you don't know for sure?" Nick was grasping at straws and he knew it. 

Baker sighed. "No, we don't know for sure, when it comes down to it, there are very few statements the medical profession can make with absolute certainty. There are things we can try...What I do know without a doubt is that constant unfulfilled hope will hurt him a lot more than facing life without sight will." 

"Yeah. When can I...talk to him?" He suddenly wondered what he could say, then quashed the feeling. _He's your friend, you treat him the same way you always have._

"It'll be a few hours yet, he's back under mild sedation. I'd advise you to get some rest too, you look like you need it worse than he does." 

Nodding slowly, as if to himself over some new revelation, Nick stood and moved toward the door. "Yeah, I'll do that," he mumbled as he pulled the door shut behind himself. 

Somehow, the doctor doubted it.  
  


Nick entered the room slowly, still not sure what to do or say. "Cody, you awake?" he asked softly. 

"Yeah. That you, Nick?" he replied woozily. 

"Uh-huh. How ya feeling?" He walked over to the bed. 

"Great," Cody said, smiling a little. "I don't know what they gave me, but it sure works. What happened? Last thing I remember is leaving the _Riptide_." 

"Uh, some kid ran into us, pretty much creamed your side of the car." 

"What happened to him?" 

"Him? He's fine," Nick said bitterly. "Not a scratch. They brought you here, hauled the cars off, gave me and the kid some tests...I passed, he didn't. Jerk couldn't have walked a straight line if he'd been tied to it." 

Cody's smile got wider. "Bet you wanted to try. How's the Vette?" 

"A wreck, damn it." This was easier than he had thought it would be. "You have any idea how hard it is to match shades of red paint? I'm gonna have to repaint the whole thing now. And that sleazeball didn't even have insurance. No steady job, either. I just hope the frame isn't bent, that would really make my day." 

Cody clicked his tongue in mock dismay. "Now, Nick, look on the bright side. At least you're not laying here bored to death and doped to the eyeballs. Which, I might add, seem to have also gone on the fritz, or so the doctors tell me." 

Nick stirred uncomfortably. "Yeah, that's what they said. Ahh, you know how these doctors are, always pessimistic so when things work out OK, you're so glad you don't mind paying the bill." 

Cody yawned and mumbled, "Ummhmmm. Wonder how much they charge for the stuff they gave me? 'd like to take home a little extra..." and in mid-sentence he dozed off. 

Nick studied his sleeping friend, glad that he had seemed to take the doctor's pessimistic appraisal of his situation so evenly. _Maybe this won't be so hard after all. He's pretty tough, we can pull through it alright._ He shook his head at the unfairness of it, touched Cody's shoulder in brief farewell, and left to find Murray and tell him the news.  
  


The next several weeks were very difficult on everyone. Dr. Baker and a cohort of specialists spoke in their typical jargon, something about pressure on the optic nerves or lesions or something else Nick and Murray neither understood nor particularly cared about the gruesomely technical details of in light of their friend's plight. Cody spent a great deal of time at the hospital suffering through hours of tests and therapy sessions, and most of the remaining time learning how to deal with the ins and outs of daily life, although he didn't take to any of it well at all. 

The concerted opinion of the doctors was that there was still a slim chance that Cody's eyesight would return as the initial trauma abated. That dangled hope was enough to both keep them all going and simultaneously hold them back from dealing with the problem of complete adjustment. Nick spent most of his time trying to assist Cody in his new lifestyle, and turned down several cases that were offered to the Agency in order to keep himself available. Murray busied himself writing new software for the Roboz and building a series of amazing prototype electronic devices that were supposed to help, but with a few exceptions they generally did not last long before they burned out either themselves or Cody's patience.  
  


The situation finally came to a head one night at dinner, when Nick retrieved a drinking glass that had eluded Cody and got snapped at for his effort. 

"Come on, Cody, I'm only trying to help." Nick tried to contain his impatience at his friend's stubborn pride. 

"Will you quit babying me!? I'm not a cripple!" Cody gestured angrily and his arm swept the glass from the table. 

"No, you just can't see what you're doing, that's all." _Damn, that was a stupid thing to say._ "Will you let me help until you can adjust for it?" 

It was the idea of adjusting to his situation rather than the reminder of what that situation was that broke Cody's temper completely. "Why? I'll never get anywhere with you hovering over me all the time! How come you're so damned concerned you can't leave me alone? Because it was your fault in the first place? Well, let me tell you something, I don't need your help and I don't want it either." He stood and tried to walk away, but in his haste he clipped the side of the table and it knocked him off balance. He fell awkwardly to the floor, unable to catch himself. 

Nick stepped forward and took hold of his arm to pull him back up, but Cody slapped him away. Fighting back tears of utter frustration, he shouted "Just get out! Leave me alone! Damn you, haven't you done enough? Get off my boat and get out of my life!" 

"All right, hotshot, you got it. It's real obvious you can take care of yourself without any help from me." Nick left, practically running but unable to escape the feelings Cody's accusation had stirred. The fact that the accident had not been his fault wasn't enough to keep him from feeling responsible for Cody's injury, and the argument had only reminded him of the guilt he had been trying to ignore. 

Drawn by Cody's outburst, Murray came slowly up the stairs. "Cody? What happened? 

"I got sick of being treated like a child, that's what happened," he snapped, cautiously waving one hand beside himself in widening circles until he located the edge of the table. Hauling himself up, he shuffled around it and sank back onto the seat. 

"Nick was only trying to help," Boz offered. 

"Not you too! Can't you two get it through your heads that I don't want you 'helping' me all the time?" 

"But you need our help, Cody, you can't do everything by yourself any more, you're..." he paused uncomfortably, not sure that throwing Cody's condition in his face would improve his temper any. 

"Blind?" he spat. "It doesn't mean I'm the goddamned imbecile you two have been treating me as! If it weren't his fault, Nick wouldn't even.." 

"That's not fair, and you know it," Murray interrupted, getting angry himself. "It's not Nick's fault, and you shouldn't have accused him of it, he feels bad enough already. You're not making anything easier for any of us, you know." 

"Well, isn't that just too bad for you guys," Cody snarled. "If you don't like it, you can leave too, I won't miss your stupid electronic torture devices any more than I do his interminable hovering. Things would be a damned site easier around here if I didn't trip over one or the other of you or your damned robot every time I turned around." 

"OK, Cody, I'll go with Nick. Maybe you need a little time to yourself to deal with things." Despite his annoyance, Murray's tone was sympathetic. 

Angered even further by the pity he thought he heard, Cody shouted after him, "I do NOT need time to deal with anything! Just go away and stay away!" When there was no answer, he yelled again, "I don't need anything from any of you!" Left alone with nothing to vent his anger on, he swept his arm across the table, sending the plates crashing to the floor. The sound of breaking glass made him feel perversely satisfied and he hunted for something else to break. His hand brushed across the top of the TV and he lifted the pink helicopter model that sat there. _That damned ugly machine of his..._ Suddenly his eyes filled with tears again and he dashed the model to the floor, enraged at his own confusion of feelings.  
  


Glancing around as he headed up the ramp, Murray spotted Nick after a few moments, sitting out at the end of the breakwater staring off to sea. It took him a while to negotiate the trail across the boulders and he came close to spraining his ankle several times. The few fishermen casting lines off the rocks watched him with varying degrees of amusement but he ignored them, concentrating on reaching Nick's perch without falling into the harbor. 

"Hi," he said, joining Nick as casually as if they spent a good deal of time meeting on the rocky projection. 

"Threw you out too, huh?" Nick replied, then sighed. "I don't get it, Murray, I just don't. I know it's not easy going through this, but why is he taking it out on us?" 

"I guess, because we're the only ones there," Boz said thoughtfully. 

"Yeah, well, I didn't sign on for abuse when I'm doing everything I can to make things easier for him," Nick said, his tone a mixture of resentment and hurt. "Maybe he would be better off by himself, all we seem to do is irritate him." 

"Nick Ryder, I'm surprised at you! We can't desert him just because he's a little upset at times, he needs us too much right now. We can't give up, we're his friends." 

There was a period of introspective quiet between the two men, then Nick sighed again. "You're right, of course. Let's find someplace to stay tonight. He'll have time to cool off a bit and think things over, maybe some time to ourselves will help everybody's temper." After a pause, Nick said, "It's just kinda weird, that's all." 

"What?" Murray asked, completely confused. 

"Well, I get mad and yell like that all the time. You do sometimes. But Cody just doesn't, he's the one always holding me back or calming you down. It's just weird, him acting like this." 

"Must be picking up our bad habits," Murray said wryly. "Come on, let's get off these rocks before it gets dark, OK?"  
  
  
  


It was a slow night for Doreen. All the guys she had seen so far were the same bunch of low-lifes she had been seeing all week, all month, all her life, she thought unhappily. One last place, then home alone again. This "Looking for Mr Goodbar" existence was the pits, but she didn't have the imagination to come up with another decent way to meet guys, and swore she would never be desperate enough to take her mother's advice and join a church group. 

The small club she entered wasn't very crowded and she picked out a booth against the back wall where she had a good view of the room. She'd long ago discovered that sitting at the bar may lead to meeting more people, but they weren't the type she wanted coming up unannounced behind her. 

_If I had a nickel for every one of these stupid paper umbrellas I've tossed, I'd be filthy rich_ , she thought, gloomily sipping the watery mai tai the waitress brought. Looked like this place was a washout too, nothing but the usual lineup of overweight executives and polyester salesmen at the bar. Except for that one at the end, sitting by himself. Her bored scan turned to acute interest and appreciative appraisal. 

The guy had nice, well, as far as she could tell, nice everything. He looked a little depressed and the few times he looked up from his drink, he didn't glance around the room to catch her carefully coy-yet-inviting look. 

_The heck with being subtle, it's getting late_ , she finally decided and with a determined breath, picked up her drink and strolled over to the bar, sitting next to the man she'd been eyeing. "Hi there," she said as casually as she could. "I was just noticing you looked a little lonely, mind if I join you?" 

Cody smiled faintly. He could hear the underlying nervousness in her voice despite the studied nonchalance of the line. "Please, be my guest," he replied, gesturing vaguely to the seat next to his. "I wouldn't mind a little company, at that." 

With her best demure look, Doreen settled next to him, temporarily at a loss for anything to say. He didn't look like the type who usually hung out in these places. "I haven't seen you here before - oh, God, that's such a cliche, forget I said that." 

She was relieved when he only smiled and said, "No, I've never been here before." 

_Kinda weird he's not looking at me. Hasn't he ever heard of the rules about eye contact in this game? Still, so far, so good..._ "I'm Doreen." 

"Cody." He fumbled slightly for his glass before picking it up and drinking. 

"So, uh, what do you do?" 

"Right now, not a hell of a lot," he said, and in turning slightly to face her he moved his arm and knocked her glass over. The remains of her drink splashed unerringly into the cleavage of her low-cut dress, causing Doreen to squawk and jump up. 

"I'm sorry," he said hastily, guessing what had happened from the noises. 

Dabbing frantically at her chest to keep the sticky stuff from dripping down to accumulate in her bra, she kept her mind focused on the glimpse of fantastic blue eyes she had seen, determined not to let a minor mishap ruin her chances with this one. "Oh, it's OK, I'm such a klutz myself sometimes, I guess you just didn't see it." 

"No kidding," Cody replied in a tone of such incredible cold bitterness that she stopped the handful of bar napkins in mid-swipe and looked at him carefully. 

Those gorgeous eyes weren't tracking her, and suddenly she knew quite positively that it wasn't because he'd had too much to drink. "Oh, my God, I'm  so sorry, never mind, I'm sorry..." she said, backing away rapidly. This encounter was turning rather rapidly into a disaster of embarrassing proportions. Grabbing her coat from the booth she'd left it in, she left at close to a dead run. 

"Shit," Cody muttered, draining his glass. 

"Struck out, huh?" the bartender asked sympathetically. 

"Bring me another. No, bring me the whole damn bottle." 

"You sure?" 

"I'm not exactly going to drive home later," Cody said sarcastically. 

"Yeah, OK." 

Several hours later, the bartender said, "We gotta close now, you want me to call you a cab?" 

"Why?" Cody asked belligerently. 

"You have had a few." 

"Yeah, blind drunk, right?" 

"Seriously." 

"No, I'm gonna walk around for a bit, get some fresh air." Cody stood up somewhat unsteadily and headed for the door, muttering imprecations as his cane caught briefly in the legs of a chair and stalled his progress. 

The bartender watched him go with serious misgivings and called out, "Be careful, huh?" 

Cody hadn't gone half a block before he felt something very solid hit his stomach. As he doubled over, he was dragged sideways and shoved to the ground, too surprised, tired, and drunk to fight back. The last thing he heard before passing out from the accumulated effects of the evening was, "Get his wallet and let's get outta here..." 

Later, he was dimly aware of another voice: "No I.D., looks like just another rolled drunk. Let's take him in." He passed out again shortly after being lifted into a vehicle that smelled overpoweringly of years of occupancy by the city's less fortunate. 

The next time Cody was fully in touch with his surroundings, he was sitting on a chair in a room that had the unmistakable aura, both in sound and smell, of run-down, harried police station. He reflected gloomily that he was getting better at identifying surroundings by sensory clues, but that he had yet to find himself in any that would be a real pleasure to recognize. About the only thing worse than his present circumstances would be to have Nick and Murray bailing him out of it, with the inevitable lectures on his newly acquired inability to take care of himself. 

"I could run you in on vagrancy, but if you'll tell me something about the guys who did this, let me call somebody for you..." The cop sighed, then gently added, "C'mon, at least tell me your name." 

"John Doe. Now can I leave?" 

The cop regarded him speculatively. There was something not right going on here. This guy wasn't the type who usually passed out in alleys, and he sure as hell wasn't in either the shape or the frame of mind to be turned loose alone. Someone had to be looking for him. Maybe he'd shape up if he just had some time to think about it. _What the hell, let him sue me for false arrest later if he wants. Maybe when his hangover clears up, he'll want to go back home and I'll just "lose" the paperwork._ "Sorry, 'John',you got no I.D., no money, and one phone call. You also have the right to remain silent..."  
  


Nick and Murray returned to the _Riptide_ at first light. "Cody?" Boz called. "You here?" 

After a quick search of the boat, Nick concluded, "He hasn't been here since we left." Some checking with the other pier residents got them the information that Cody had taken a cab somewhere the night before. 

"Where the hell is he?" Nick asked. "I don't like it, Murray. Something's wrong. Something's happened to him." 

"Maybe we should...call the cops or something?" Boz suggested. "Or we could go see..." 

"No way," Nick cut him off, then after a pause, said resignedly, "OK, but he's just gonna  love this."  
  


Lieutenant Quinlan regarded Nick with that special mixture of derision and distaste he reserved for the _Riptide_ crew. "Sorry, Ryder, but your surfer buddy's a big boy, and he hasn't been gone long enough to file a missing person report. You're supposed to be detectives,  you find him." 

"Fine," Nick said wearily and turned to go. 

"Wait a minute," Quinlan said, surprised by Nick's complete lack of combativeness. "You're really worried, aren't you?" 

"Yeah." Claiming otherwise would have been a pointless expenditure of energy that even the lieutenant could have seen through. 

Quinlan looked at Nick and Murray, studying their faces. Naturally, he knew what had happened to Cody, and while he was grateful for the peace and quiet that had surrounded his office since the accident, he still felt that it was rather a shame. "All right, I'll do what I can." 

"What?" Boz asked, unable to believe what he'd just heard. 

"You heard me, I'll get on it. Now quit littering up my office and beat it." 

"Thanks, Lieutenant, I owe you one," Nick said at the door. 

"Damn right, and don't you ever forget it," Quinlan growled as he picked up the phone.  
  


A certain cop was passing the last few minutes till he could go home idly perusing a message from the King Harbor P.D. _6'1", blond/blue, mustache, and... hello, Mr. Doe_. He walked back to the holding cell and loudly said, "Hey, Cody!" When the prisoner's head snapped up reflexively, he added kindly, "Gotcha."  
  


The phone rang and Nick snatched it up to hear Quinlan drawl, "You might try visiting a certain nearby precinct, they think maybe they've found your missing property..."  
  


When Nick and Murray arrived to pick Cody up, they were both relieved to find that he was all right, and disturbed by the tall cop's report of his assumed adventures, his disheveled appearance, and the monosyllables (at best) he communicated in. Assured that Cody was being held only for what had been thought to be his own protection and not on any charges, they followed the officer back to the holding cell with some misgivings about what they would find. 

"Don't say much, Murray," Nick cautioned. "He's bad enough, probably embarrassed, and I don't want to make things worse or set him off again. Next time we might not all be so lucky in who finds him." Murray agreed, and kept his chatter to a minimum as they went through the formalities of getting Cody officially released from his involuntary sanctuary. Nick thanked the cop for all his help, and the three traveled back to King Harbor in silence. 

When they reached the _Riptide_ , Cody sat down in the salon, still maintaining an icy quiet. Nick said nervously, "The fridge is empty, so I thought me and Murray'd go get some dinner, OK?" 

"Yeah, right, we need to," Murray added, trying to help. 

"So, anyway, we'll be back in a few..." 

There was still no answer, so Nick said with forced naturalness, "C'mon, Murray, let's go," but he and Boz both knew it wasn't going to be easy for quite a while. That was nothing new, but they had been hoping without admitting it to each other that things would change sooner. 

It was a cheerless shopping expedition that ended up conceding defeat in the frozen food aisle of the local Lucky's. When they returned, Cody wasn't on board the _Riptide_. 

"Not  again," Nick said tiredly, but it only took them a few minutes to locate somebody who had seen him making his way to the small enclosed beach behind the pier. When they reached it, they spotted him immediately. He was sitting by himself facing the water, seemingly absorbed in watching the waves. 

"Um, why don't you go talk to him, Nick? I left a couple things running that I should check on." Acknowledging Nick's look of thanks, Murray headed back to the boat. 

Nick descended the steps to the beach and walked over to where Cody sat, wondering what to say. _"Hi, we're back", yeah, right, let's be obvious. Why not just ask him to throw us out again?_

Nick got close to Cody and stood there silently for a moment and then cleared his throat nervously. He was surprised by the sudden defensive look on Cody's face, and it saddened him to realize that his friend's reaction to anything would never be the same. "Just me, this seat taken?" he asked softly. 

The only answer was an apathetic shrug, so he settled on the sand next to Cody, crossing his arms over his knees and resting his chin on them. Nick closed his eyes and listened to the sounds around them, submerging himself in the world as Cody now knew it. 

At first only the closest sounds were clear: the cries of the gulls wheeling overhead, the laughter of people walking along the pier, the occasional echoing of a car horn in the parking garage behind them. In time, those faded into unimportance and the subtler background noises that he had missed hearing before began to define the true nature of the beach: the regular soft crash and hiss of the small waves breaking and retreating across the sand, the snap of a flag in the breeze, the faint ringing of the bell in the harbor buoy. When he at last opened his eyes again, it was like an abrupt transition into another world, one with people in it. 

They sat side by side, each absorbed in his own thoughts until Cody asked quietly, "What's it like?" 

"Hmm? What's what like?" 

"It's about sunset, isn't it?" 

"Yeah, the sun's going down." After a brief silence, Nick realized what Cody wanted: a description, phrases to draw the pieces of memory he had together into a picture of this particular sunset. Clearing his throat, he tried to find the words to describe the subtle, constantly changing colors of the sky and water, blending imperceptibly from orange through blue and green to the deep purple overhead already sparkling with a few early stars. But if names existed for the shades, he didn't know them, and after a few false starts he muttered lamely, "Oh, hell, Cody, it's just a regular sunset." _And I never noticed how beautiful even a dull one is._

"Yeah." There was a world of heartbreak in that one word. 

Finally, Nick said, "C'mon, it's getting cold and so's dinner. Let's go back to the boat." 

Cody listlessly agreed and allowed himself to be led back to the _Riptide_. He pushed his food around his plate aimlessly for a few minutes, then went to bed early. 

"What are we gonna do?" Murray asked plaintively. 

Nick looked down the stairs, stifling the urge to sigh. "We're all gonna have a lousy few days."  
  


_I called that one right_ , Nick thought as he sat on the rail and looked over at Cody, who was sitting despondently, looking depressed as always lately. Suddenly Nick realized that that was what had been bothering him the most--not Cody's blindness, but the change in his attitude and personality. Cody seemed--less, somehow smaller, and it wasn't just because he had lost weight from not eating. Nick chewed on his thumbnail while he tried to figure out exactly what it was. He'd seen Cody upset and depressed before, but this was more than that. Cody seemed to have lost part of himself, that boundless self-confidence that he'd always had, even in the roughest times. It wasn't egotism or cockiness, just an inbred assuredness that he could handle whatever came along. And now it was gone, and Nick missed it, missed his friend the way he used to be. 

"I'm getting really sick and tired of this!" Nick finally exploded. 

"Of what?" Cody asked sullenly. 

"Of you! When are you gonna shape up and get on with it? Sittin' around here moping and complaining all the time, it ain't like you, man." 

"I'm not like me, either, or hadn't you noticed?" Cody interjected bitterly. 

"It doesn't make a damn bit of difference! So you can't see, so what? Feeling sorry for yourself is NOT going to help! You're sorry, I'm sorry, Murray is, the whole damn harbor's sorry for you, and that ain't gonna change the way it is!" Nick paused for a second as Cody carefully got up and walked over to him. He could see Cody's jaw muscles tightening and hoped he was doing the right thing. 

Cody's voice was low, anger beginning to stir in its depths. "What do you want me to do, Nick? Act like I'm glad it happened? Pretend everything is OK?" 

"Don't give me that! I'm not asking you to be happy about it, just accept it like the man you're supposed to be. There's a hell of a lot of people worse off than you. People who can't do anything for themselves. All those guys we knew in Nam who never made it home, and the guys who did, but left big parts of themselves behind. So what makes you so damn special, huh?" He paused, thinking of what to say next, and looked away for a second, getting ready to go on... 

...when suddenly he felt a punch across his jaw, and (caught off guard and off balance) ended up in the water. 

"Nick?" Cody called, worried. "Are you OK?" 

"Yeah, fine, except this was my last clean shirt. And you wouldn't believe the junk some people throw into this harbor." He hauled himself back aboard the Riptide, shaking off the water and rubbing his chin. "Boy, you got one hell of a right, pal." 

"Oh, damn, Nick, I'm really sorry," Cody said, contritely, all his anger gone. "I shouldn't have done that. I guess I just lost my temper." 

Nick smiled. "'s OK. I'm glad you did. That's sorta what I was hoping for." 

"To get punched?" 

"Well, no, not exactly. I was just trying to get some reaction out of you, anything besides how you've been, sitting around doing nothing." 

After a bit, Cody said, "I guess I have been...kind of hard to live with lately, huh?" 

"Understatement of the year," Nick said, not unkindly. 

Cody ducked his head for a moment, then tilted his face toward Nick and repeated, "I'm sorry." He took a deep breath. "You're right, I have to get on with my life." He smiled slightly. "Thanks for putting up with me, Nick." 

"Any time," Nick said, suddenly glad that Cody couldn't see the expression on his face. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna go change before I catch pneumonia. We've had enough hospital bills lately." He paused at the door and said, "Don't you dare tell anybody about this." 

Cody looked confused. "Why?" 

Nick smiled and said gently, "'Cause it'll ruin my image if anybody finds out that I got punched out by a blind guy." 

Cody actually managed to smile at that. "I won't tell if you won't." 

"How'd you do that, anyway, just out of curiosity?" Nick asked, trying to keep the lighter mood up. 

"Had a big target to aim at." Cody waited a beat. "Your mouth." 

His laugh overlapped with Nick's sardonic, "Oh, thanks."  
  


The doctors announced another interminable round of tests, and as he had before, Nick waited and wished he was religious enough to take real comfort in prayer. As Cody came out of the office, Nick rose from the chair and went to meet him. "You doin' OK?" he inquired softly, taking Cody's hand from the nurse's arm and placing it on his own. 

"Let's just go home," Cody muttered. It was plain he didn't want to talk about whatever the doctor had said, and Nick's own hopes fell as he realized how the discussion inside must have gone. 

"Sure, right this way," Nick answered, trying not to let his disappointment show in his voice as he led Cody through the maze of corridors to the exit. Cody did not say anything during the ride back, and Nick knew better than to ask. Once at the _Riptide_ , Cody made his way to the table and sat down behind it, listlessly slumped in the corner. 

"You want some coffee?" Nick asked, with forced casualness. Taking the noncommittal grunt as an affirmative, he busied himself making the coffee, concentrating intently as if the process was the most important task in the world. 

Cody tried to blank out the repeating echoes of the doctor's words condemning him to a life of perpetual blindness. _It's all gone, forever. I'll always be dependent on my friends but I'll never see them again. Or the sunset, or a pretty girl or the stars at night on the open sea or anything at all. No color, forever..._ It sank in slowly, changing all his happy memories to sad reminders of the way things could never be again; the future one long stumble through the dark for him. His lifetime worth of hopes, wishes and dreams, all lost in a senseless accident that took only a few seconds. A sob rose in his throat and he tried desperately to stifle it, hating the self-pity that was destroying his resolve to face his disability with dignity. It caught and he choked on it, fighting a losing battle with despair until finally he gave in. Cody crossed his arms on the table, buried his head in them and began crying, awkwardly at first, and then sobbing; crying for all the empty years that stretched ahead. 

Setting the cups on the table, Nick slid into the seat next to him and draped a comforting arm around Cody's shoulders, letting the gesture carry his concern and support without words. 

Murray had heard them come in and came up the stairs. He saw the two of them sitting there, saw Cody crying and the look on Nick's face, and did not need to ask what had happened. His expression changed to one of sorrow, and he sat down on the other side of Cody. Tentatively, he rested a hand on Cody's arm for a few seconds, then swallowed hard and began blinking rapidly. Boz got up and went back down the stairs. 

Nick quietly said, "It's gonna be OK. Whatever it is, we'll make it." 

Cody choked again, coughed a couple of times, and managed to whisper, "He said...if it hadn't gotten better by now, it...it wasn't going to." He resumed crying, just as hard. 

Though he had already guessed that was what Cody had been told, hearing it spoken destroyed a last small spark of hope Nick hadn't known he still had. So that's it then. _God, Cody, I'm so sorry it had to be you in the way when our luck finally ran out._ He wrapped his other arm around Cody and hugged him tightly, resting his forehead on Cody's shoulder. Cody reached up to touch the arm crossing his chest in thanks, then abandoned all pretense of reserve and turned, sliding sideways enough to fold his arms around his friend and bury his face in the warm, waiting shoulder. 

Nick let him cry, for how long he didn't know. Cody finally took a deep, shuddering breath, held it for a few seconds, and said in an almost inaudible voice, "I'm scared, Nick." He trembled, coughing to clear his throat. 

"Me, too," Nick whispered, and neither of them could think of anything more to say.  
  


"Hey, you gonna sleep all day?" Nick asked as he woke Cody up a few days later. 

"Huh? Oh..." Cody sat up and blinked a couple of times, looking slightly confused. Suddenly a look of regret passed over his face. 

"What's wrong?" Nick asked. 

"Nothing." 

"Nothing?" 

"I was just in the middle of a dream, that's all." 

"Good one? Bad one?" 

"Just an ordinary one." 

Nick didn't say anything, letting the silence drag on until Cody was forced to speak. 

"I was reading something," Cody mumbled, and Nick understood why he had appeared sad about waking up; in his dreams, Cody could still see. 

Nick rested a hand on Cody's shoulder briefly, then said, "I haven't eaten yet, last one in the galley's a rotten egg. Which I think we've got." 

It didn't take long for Cody to cheer up, listening to Nick's running commentary on the state of the galley, its contents, and the inherent difficulties of cooking eggs. 

Murray joined them before too long, drawn by the scent of food. "What're you guys doing today?" he inquired, when the last few scraps of breakfast were being chased across plates. 

"Catching up on my tan," Cody announced suddenly, rising to leave. As he made his way back toward the rear stateroom, he could hear Murray's puzzled inquiry over what was wrong, and the muted murmur of Nick's reply. And although he knew it was stupid to let a dream depress him, he couldn't help feeling resentful that of the three of them, he had to be the one who most loved to read. 

By late afternoon, Cody had almost forgotten his earlier depression in a wash of steadily growing curiosity. "What's Murray been up to all day?" he asked Nick, who had been attempting to sort through the pile of magazines that had accumulated in the main salon. "All I've been smelling from his room is solder and warm electronics, and once in a while something beeps." 

"Let's go find out, I've been kinda wondering myself. Murray, what is it you've been working on so hard?" Nick asked as they entered his room. 

"Oh, this is really boss, guys, let me explain," Boz replied excitedly. "It's really amazing what's going on these days with speech synthesis and recognition, it's really on the cutting edge of AI..." 

"You wanna put that in English?" Nick interrupted. 

"Oh, right, sorry...Well, I've hooked up a speech synthesizer as this terminal's output device, and logged onto an on-line database..." 

"Murray!" Nick and Cody chorused, exasperated. 

"Oh...Well, why don't I just show you. Cody, you were complaining yesterday that you didn't know what was going on since you couldn't read the paper or magazines, so I figured a way around that." He tapped a couple of keys and a voice spoke in slightly hesitant and sing-song, but perfectly understandable tones: 

"Washington (AP) The President announced today that he would be seeking an additional 3.75 billion dollars in funding for..." 

Cody and Nick laughed simultaneously. 

"Your computer talks!" Cody said. 

"Yeah, isn't that neato? This particular database is sort of a continuously updated electronic newspaper, and the computer's reading it. It can read just about any text that comes in. Right now it's only got a 15,000-word vocabulary, but I can teach it more real easy." 

"OK," Cody said, "so the computer can read to me. But how am I supposed to tell it what to do? My touch-typing's not all that great." 

"Easy," Murray said, looking like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary. "I've also got a speech-recognition input device hooked up to it. All we have to do is to spend a few hours teaching it to recognize various commands in your voice and you can tell it to do whatever you want." 

"Yeah?" Cody said, pleased. 

"That's really something, Murray," Nick said. 

"Hey, you said this could read anything. Does that include stuff like, oh, Department of Motor Vehicles records or some of those other files you're always checking on during cases?" asked Cody. 

"Sure, anything that comes up on the screen, why? Oh, I get it! You could check all those records, huh? I never even thought of that. I was just kind of playing around with this, I had the equipment just sitting here." 

"For 'playing around', that's pretty good." Cody rested a hand on Murray's shoulder. "Thanks, Murray." 

Embarrassed, but pleased, Boz mumbled, "Aw, it wasn't anything, Cody, I just wanted to help out somehow." 

Over Murray's head, the expression Cody leveled at Nick said he wasn't fooled one bit by the innocent act. 

"No, really, I didn't know he was gonna do that, honest," Nick protested, following Cody to the door. Pausing there, he leaned back to whisper a quick "Thanks, Boz, I owe you one," before continuing out into the companionway. "Aw, come on, Cody..." 

Murray leaned back in his chair, hands folded behind his head, and grinned at the computer.  
  


Nick heard soft music as he approached the dock. He couldn't tell exactly what it was, but it was definitely something classical, and from this he made the brilliant deduction that Cody was up and about. 

Cody tilted his head as Nick came down the stairs, then smiled and said, "Hi, Nick, how's the _Mimi_?" 

"How'd you know it was me?" he asked, "and how did you know I'd been out checking her? You weren't up when I left." 

"Elementary, my dear Watson," Cody chortled. "You've been borrowing my aftershave again, and you reek of avgas and that heavy hydraulic oil from the brake lines." 

"Then come on and make yourself useful, I've gotta bleed the damn lines again." 

Cody's smile began to evaporate. "What could I do to help?" 

Nick sighed and demanded in exasperation, "This from the guy who used to break down and reassemble rifles in the dark. Can you tell a screwdriver from a box wrench?" 

"Sure. They all smell pretty much alike, but there are these subtle differences..." He was trying hard to sound smug, but the end of his reply was muffled by the sweater Nick tossed over his head. 

"Then you can hand me tools while I'm hanging upside down crammed into the fuselage, you ought to remember it's a two-man job getting the air out of that system." 

"It's a two-idiot job doing anything on that flying bomb," Cody mumbled to himself as he disentangled the sweater, feeling its texture. "Wait a minute, this is one of my good sweaters, I'd better go get another one." He returned a few minutes later, wearing an old sweater that was liberally streaked with _Riptide_ -colored paint, and reluctantly followed Nick out. 

They walked around the harbor, Cody thankful not to be lugging the heavy toolkit this time. When they reached the _Mimi_ 's pad, it took about ten minutes to figure out a convenient way to organize things so that Cody could pick the right pieces without too much hunting, but soon they had it down and Nick struggled into the cramped access and went to work. 

"Y'know, Nick," Cody said as he handed up a Phillips screwdriver, "if you ask my opinion, this is the best the _Mimi_ 's ever looked." He tried (none too successfully) to hide a smirk as he waited for the inevitable reaction. 

"Yeah, well, who asked...WAIT a minute!" Nick said, irritated as he realized that his beloved helicopter had been insulted again. 

Cody began laughing. "Why do I get the feeling you're giving me a real dirty look?" Nick couldn't keep from joining in the laughter. It was nice to hear Cody sounding back to normal. 

"You've always had this totally unreasonable prejudice toward the _Mimi_." 

"Unreasonable?! Just because it doesn't work half the time, it doesn't work right the rest of the time, and it's the ugliest thing in the sky...well, at least I don't have to look at it any more." 

Nick could hear the effort Cody had made to keep his last comment light, and responded, "Yeah, but I still gotta listen to you complain about her, that ain't fair." 

"Awww..." Cody said, in mock sympathy. "Am I supposed to hold this screwdriver all day, or are you going to do something with it?" 

"Don't tempt me," Nick muttered as he took it.  
  


Coming back the next morning with the last of the parts he needed for the _Mimi_ , Nick found Cody with a rag in one hand and a can of metal polish in the other, deeply engrossed in shining some of the _Riptide_ 's brightwork. He watched for a few minutes as Cody polished a section, felt it to make sure it was clean, and then moved onto the next. 

"What's with the sudden attack of neatness?" he finally asked. 

"Just trying to keep my boat nice-looking, anything wrong with that?" 

"No," Nick replied, in a tone of voice that suggested that he couldn't quite think of what else to say. 

Very quietly, Cody said, "Just 'cause I can't see it, doesn't mean it doesn't get tarnished. I know that. And everybody else can see it." 

"Yeah, I noticed. You're doing a good job, it looks fine. But why don't you knock off for a bit and let's go get some lunch." 

"OK." 

Nick dumped the parts in the salon and they set off along the pier, Cody resting a hand lightly on the railing to find his way, Nick walking alongside him, noticing how well he was getting around. 

"Hey, since they don't allow dogs around here, maybe I could get something more appropriate," Cody said, "like a seeing-eye pelican." 

Nick laughed at the image that conjured up. "Where are you gonna get a muzzle and leash for a pelican?" They both stopped walking to dissolve into laughter. 

"OK, wise guy," Cody asked when he could talk again, "you got any better ideas?" 

"How 'bout a seeing-eye Ryder?" 

"Where I am going to get a muzzle and leash for you?" Cody asked. 

"Well, you know how good Murray is with designing stuff, we'll get him to build one. Prob'ly have little blinking lights all over it and double as a radio transmitter in case I get lost." 

Cody started laughing helplessly again at the thought of Nick in a blinking muzzle, sitting lost and forlorn on some street corner. "Come on, you'd make a lousy dog. I could never get you to fetch." 

"Hey, I'm loyal, trustworthy, your best friend, and playing fetch off a boat is really dumb anyway. What more could you want?" 

Cody reached out, found Nick's shoulder, and shook it gently. "Nothing at all, my friend, nothing at all." 

"I'm serious, man." 

"I know. Thanks." He was about to say something more, but was nearly bowled over by a low-flying female. 

"Oh, sorry," the girl said as Cody instinctively grabbed her shoulders to hold both of them upright. "I guess I wasn't looking where I was going." 

"Fine with me. I do that myself," Cody said to her, smiling. Nick had to look away and stifle a laugh. He could swear he'd heard an audible click as Cody turned on the charm. 

"Well, maybe we should do this more often," she replied, in the same tone of voice. "Catch you later," she said as she left. 

Nick looked after her, slightly bemused and very amused. "Y'know, Cody, sometimes you're really amazing." 

"Yeah, aren't I, though, sometimes I even amaze myself." 

Nick snorted, then said, "Well, if you're done impressing everybody in King Harbor, can we go eat?" 

"Sure. Who was that, anyway? I didn't recognize her voice." 

"Umm...I think her name's Lisa. She joined the _Contessa_ crew about a week ago, I guess." 

"Sounded...interesting." 

"You mean interested. Yeah, she looked like she was, very." Cody looked thoughtful, and Nick had an inkling of what he was thinking. "I'd say she likes you, OK? And since she's new around here, uh...she didn't know you before, y'know..." 

"Before I was blind," Cody said matter-of-factly. "It's OK, Nick, you can say it." 

"I know. I just wanted to wait until you could." Before the pause grew too long, he continued, "Didn't want you throwing me off the boat again. Matter of fact, I think you owe me lunch for that one, now that I think about it." 

"What?" Cody demanded indignantly, rejoining their game without missing a beat. "Me, owe you? Since when?" 

Smiling broadly, they waved their arms in exaggerated punctuation and proceeded down the pier, voices raised in vehement, if insincere, disagreement. 

That night, there was a groan from Nick and an agonized strangled scream from Murray as the power went out. 

"Oh, no! I just lost that whole file I've been working on all day!" Boz cried, pounding futilely on the keyboard. 

Nick got up and promptly ran into a chair. "Ouch! Damn! Where's the flashlight or lantern or something?" His temper was not improved when he brushed up against another piece of furniture. 

"Looking for this?" Cody asked, ascending the stairs and walking over to Nick without running into anything. He held the flashlight out. 

"Yeah, thanks, can't see anything around here..." He was interrupted by Cody's laugh. 

"Gee, Nick, what's the matter?" Cody said, a definite note of evil glee in his voice. He laughed again. 

Nick turned the lit flashlight in Cody's direction. "Oh, shut up," he said amiably. After a pause, he said, "You're enjoying this way too much." 

Cody nodded, still grinning. 

"OK, buddy, since we're in your element, you can rustle up something to eat, huh?" 

"Sure," Cody said, and went back down to the galley. "What do you want?" 

"Uh...I dunno, let me think." 

"Don't strain yourself," Cody replied before Nick could say anything else. 

"I think maybe I liked it better when you weren't talking to me." 

Murray, still irritated about his data loss, nevertheless had to smile at their conversation. It sounded reassuringly normal. 

Cody had found the materials he wanted and was proceeding to make a peanut butter sandwich. "So, what do you want?" 

"We got any of that spaghetti sauce left?" 

"No, I threw it out." 

"Hey, that's my grandmother's recipe!" Nick protested. 

"Yeah, I know, and it's good, but after about a week in the fridge, it gets aggressive and starts attacking the rest of the food. You gotta get to that stuff before it sets up, or becomes the next Godzilla. Let that loose on the boardwalk, it'll probably eat some tourist from Nebraska, and you just try explaining THAT to Quinlan." Cody barely made it through the last part of his sentence before joining Nick in laughter. 

"Well, I don't feel much like peanut butter," Nick started, then broke off in puzzlement as Cody reached over to him and carefully felt his arm. 

"You're right, nothing at all like it," Cody concurred. 

"Everybody's a comedian," Nick muttered, but it was plain by the tone of his voice that he was smiling. "How about a stroll on the pier, since there isn't much to do here without any power? Your Braille reading isn't quite up to keeping us entertained yet." 

"Sure," he mumbled around the tag end of his dinner, "maybe we can run into Lisa again." 

Nick threw up his hands in defeat and headed for the door, calling to Murray, "Hey, wanna join us? We're going for a walk." 

"No, I'm busy," Boz called back. 

Curious about what he could be doing when he had no electricity, Nick sidetracked down to the computer room. There he found Murray, hunched over the desk by a lit candle, busily scribbling on something. "What are you doing? Can't it wait?" 

"I'm filling out the order form for this Datasaver power supply unit, then I'm going to write a check, and then I'm going to the nearest mailbox and send them both off. I've been meaning to do it for the last month, ever since I lost that entire program in the last power failure. Every time somebody trips over the cord out there I lose 8 hours of hard work, and I'm tired of it!" Digging through the mess around his desk, Boz produced an envelope and single-mindedly continued his task. 

"OK, OK, just thought I'd ask. See you later." Shaking his head, Nick returned up the stairs and followed Cody out onto the dock. 

With the power out all along the pier, it was much quieter, but the nearly full moon kept it from being too dark. The hordes of tourists had left earlier in the evening, and the breeze coming in off the ocean kept the rank odors from the fish market under control. All in all, it was another beautiful evening, the sort that reminded Nick why he put up with the cramped quarters and other minor inconveniences of living on the boat. 

"Nice evening, huh?" Cody asked, echoing Nick's thoughts with uncanny accuracy. 

"Yeah, I was just thinking, sometimes all the hassle is worth it, you know?" 

Cody smiled. "I knew you'd see it that way. Though for all the complaining you did when we moved in, I never thought you'd admit you like it after all." 

"What, me, complain?" Nick asked indignantly, and they both laughed at the memory of those first few weeks, when the constant motion of the boat had kept them both awake (and Nick queasy) for days. "Yeah, well, maybe someday you'll admit you love flying in the _Mimi_ , too." 

"Hah! That will really be the day." Arm in arm, they continued the friendly argument as they walked, Nick steering Cody around obstacles so automatically that neither noticed any longer. Had anyone been watching, it would have been hard to tell that one of them was sightless. 

"Aha," Nick said, "an interesting object on the forward radar." 

"Oh?" 

"Your wish has been granted. Hi, Lisa," Nick called. 

"Hi, guys." 

"Glad you're here, do me a favor and keep this guy company while I go get something, will ya?" Nick asked. 

"Sure." She sounded like it was going to be no trouble at all. 

_Nick, that's gotta be the worst exit line and most transparent excuse I've ever heard, but thanks anyway,_ Cody thought. 

After about five minutes, Cody and Lisa's casual strolling and serious flirtation was interrupted by a shriek. "What's that?" he asked her as a small chorus of angrily raised voices broke the peacefulness of the pier. 

Lisa stood on tiptoe and looked around, managing in the process to lean most of her weight against Cody's chest. The action was taking place in the direction Nick had just loitered off toward. "Oh, no, some creep grabbed a lady's purse, Nick's chasing him... they're coming this way." 

Cody listened carefully to the rapidly approaching footsteps, calculating and finally deciding, _Oh, the hell with it, here goes nothing..._ He took a deep breath, guaged the timing with now-expert hearing, and launched into a low flying tackle that brought both the purse snatcher and himself down with a crash. 

"Nice move," Nick panted as he caught up to their position and collared the punk. 

"Are you all right?" Lisa asked as she helped Cody up. 

"I think I broke something," he admitted. 

"Well, I'm not surprised," she scolded. "That was a totally stupid macho thing to do." 

"Yeah, true, but it worked, didn't it?" he grinned. 

She rolled her eyes and sighed, " Men," then laughed. "OK, so I'm suitably impressed by your athletic prowess and lack of common sense." 

"Enough to find me some Band-Aids?" 

"Sure." Somehow, her lasciviously wiggling eyebrows managed to come across quite clearly in her vocal tone. 

"Well, you seem to be in good hands," Nick said with just the proper insinuation, "so I'll go turn this slime in. Maybe Quinlan'll actually be glad to see me." 

"Never." 

"Nah, he'll get a good laugh outa this one, telling the creep here all about the guy who tackled him." 

"What?" the kid demanded as Nick dragged him off. "He's bigger than me, that ain't fair." 

Nick began laughing. "Big deal." 

The last thing Cody and Lisa heard as Nick hauled the miscreant away was the teenager's indignant, "He's WHAT?!"  
  


Life settled into a routine and gradually even became enjoyable again. At first they tackled a few easy cases as a team, and shortly their confidence was such that they were engaging themselves in full-scale investigations and achieving a success rate that rivaled their own earlier record. The various specialists consulted by Dr. Baker ran out of new tests to try on Cody and gave up, half of them claiming that the physical trauma had fully abated and there was no reason why his eyesight should not have returned. The others maintained that as no further change had taken place, there was no reason why it ever should return. The division of opinion was enough to keep Dr. Baker from pronouncing Cody's continued blindness to be only psychosomatic, and as he had begun to adjust and cope quite well with it, there seemed to be no need to upset the balance by offering another uncertain hope of cure. 

One day, Nick and Murray were out running down some leads and Cody was alone on the boat, balancing the Agency account on the computer, when he began to notice something very odd. Tilting his head, Cody tried to discern some change in the relative placement of the shadowy shapes. He had grown used to the periodic flashes of light and random shapes that he sometimes imagined seeing, but this wasn't quite the same. It all seemed to be too steady. And persistent. He listened for a moment, checking to see if anyone had come into the room while he was preoccupied, but there was no one near. Moving until he faced the brightest spot, he found that it corresponded to the window, the warmth of the the early afternoon sun unmistakable on his skin. 

Holding his breath, he cautiously waved a hand in front of his face. A shadow moved up and down against the dully lit background. It looked just a little brighter than before, and when he closed his eyes, the familiar plain darkness returned. _It can't be, not after all this time! It's got to be some trick of my imagination._ Trying very hard to convince himself there was nothing to get excited about, he still found himself shivering with repressed tension. _Deep breaths, calm down, take it slowly. OK, if it's coming back, maybe it won't stay. Maybe this is all the better it will ever get. No point in getting everybody upset._

Throughout the rest of the afternoon his sight continued to improve by steady, though infinitesimal, degrees. Afraid of giving himself away by some gesture, when Nick and Murray returned he excused himself and went to lie down, pleading a severe headache; not so far from the truth, his head did hurt quite a bit. By the time the sun had gone down, he could see a blurred but definite world around him, the colors washed into each other but present. There was no question of sleep, and when Nick packed it in for the night, Cody went upstairs. Since daylight had little meaning for him, it was not unusual for him to stay up several hours past the other two, and when there wasn't a case that they wanted him to help with, they let him sleep in to make up for it. 

It was around four in the morning that, despite his fear that if he slept, when he woke he might find the change had reversed itself and disappeared, Cody finally became too tired to stay up any longer. He stumbled down the stairs, making more noise than he had in some time because he was trying to see through the dark rather than navigating it with his acquired skills. Used to his occasionally nocturnal habits, Nick asked blearily what time it was, then merely groaned some unintelligible remark regarding sadism and dropped back to sleep. 

At least he had thought he was tired, until he lay down. It was another hour later before he finally dozed off, and that only after Nick had been roused again by his repeated tossing and inquired if something was bothering him. The next morning, though it was actually closer to noon when he woke, the sun was streaming in through the windows and although his sight hadn't returned completely, being able to see at all was enough. Fighting the urge to jump with sheer exuberance, he nonetheless bounced a little through his morning routine. 

Taking a shower and getting dressed gave him a chance to gain some measure of control, and he managed to look calm as he headed up the stairs. Finding nobody inside, he went out the back door and found Nick sitting on the deck with a huge collection of greasy parts spread out around him on rags. He heard Cody and warned, "I've got the Vette's carburetor all over the floor, but there's about a foot wide space all around." 

Grunting a noncommittal reply, Cody walked around the edge of the display and carefully sat down on the deck facing Nick. Not looking up, Nick continued trying to fit two small, intricate and highly recalcitrant parts together. He was beginning to lose his temper with them when suddenly they fell into place, then discovered he couldn't reach for the screwdriver to fix them that way without letting go the hold that was keeping them from dropping apart again. "Damn! They ought to make the guy who designed this miserable thing try working on it some time!" 

Smiling, Cody picked up the screwdriver and reaching in between Nick's fingers with it, got the two parts firmly attached to each other. 

"Boy, you're getting good at..." Nick started, then as he turned the piece and looked at it, he realized just how unlikely that degree of help should have been. Startled, he finally looked up at Cody, who was sitting there still smiling at him. Setting the part down with exaggerated care, he lifted one hand and slowly waved it back and forth in front of Cody's face. 

Cody tracked it for a moment, then looked past it straight into Nick's eyes as he reached up and met it precisely. 

Nick stared at him for a moment longer, then broke into a brilliant smile. "You can see again!" When Cody just nodded, suddenly afraid his voice wouldn't hold if he tried to answer, Nick let go his hand and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him forward into a crushing embrace and exclaiming delightedly, "That's GREAT!" 

Cody returned the hug, too happy himself to care about either the spectacle they were making or that he was now liberally smeared with carburetor grease himself. There were a few minutes of almost embarrassed silence as they grinned inanely at each other, then he finally asked Nick, "Think you could take me over to the hospital? There's a doctor there that I gotta see." He grinned. "Really see. Things are still kinda fuzzy, though, like bad TV reception, lots of ghosts and blurry edges." 

"Your antenna always was a bit crooked." Nick looked down at the deck. "Can we take your car?" and they both laughed. 

"Sure." Cody rubbed his eyes and slipped on the pair of sunglasses he'd brought on deck with him. "Forgot how bright the sun is." 

"Hey, that's OK," Nick said, smiling. "Your future's so bright..." 

"I gotta wear shades," they finished simultaneously as they headed for the Jimmy.  
  


Dr. Baker accompanied Cody out of the office, still shaking his head. "I still want you to come in once a week for a while, and don't push it. Wear the sunglasses whenever you're outside, and don't overtire yourself trying to catch up on Rockford reruns." 

"What happened?" Nick asked. 

"Damned if I know," the doctor shrugged cheerfully. "Just shows we medical types don't always know what's going on. If I figure it out, I'll write it up for the journals and we'll all get famous." He smiled. "If I was the religious type, I guess I'd just say it was a miracle."  
  


That evening, Nick and Murray joined Cody on the fantail. Cody was looking out to sea, his expression more purely contented than they had seen in months, maybe even years. 

"So, what more did the doctor say?" Boz asked. 

"He doesn't know. My vision might clear up completely or it might always be a little off. Not that I really care, considering." 

Nick leaned close to Murray and stage-whispered, "He's always been a little off, you know, I just never expected him to admit it." 

Murray grinned, then cleared his throat. "Umm, I have to get back to work. Some companies are interested in some of that stuff I built for you." He started to leave, then turned back. "I'm really glad, Cody," he began awkwardly. "I mean..." 

"I know, Murray," Cody replied, leaning forward and patting his shoulder. "Thanks for everything." 

After Murray had left, Nick and Cody sat in companionable silence, watching the slowly changing colors of the sky as the sun slid down into the mist over the ocean. 

Remembering the last time they'd done this, Nick said softly, "It's just a regular sunset." 

"Yeah." There was a world of hope in that one word.


End file.
